


Maybe If You Stayed

by bigficenergy



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Alexis Rose Consulting, Background Relationships, David/Patrick - Freeform, Developing Relationship, F/F, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Pining, Post-Canon, Stevie/Ruth, Ted/OFC, Twyla/OMC, work friends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-20
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:07:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26456128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bigficenergy/pseuds/bigficenergy
Summary: When Alexis gets to the bar, Twyla is already there, looking as ever like sunshine personified in one of the Isabel Marant tops Alexis had given her, paired with some Old Navy jeans. Not even realizing she’d been carrying any tension, Alexis physically relaxes at the sight of her old friend.Years down the line, this is the moment she will look back on as the moment she should have known she was in love.
Relationships: Alexis Rose/Twyla Sands
Comments: 28
Kudos: 99
Collections: Elevate! A Schitt's Creek Femslash Exchange, Up for Anything – a Schitt's Creek WLW porn collection





	Maybe If You Stayed

**Author's Note:**

> I owe this whole fic to the song ["Pink Light" by MUNA](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OHnrwoQlCp8).
> 
> Thank you to the mods for organizing this much needed exchange. Please accept this humble solo offering that is far too long for how late I started writing it.

The first time Twyla visits her in New York, Alexis is still freelancing as a PR consultant, dreaming of her own apartment and her own office space while living and working in a small, rented bedroom in an old brownstone. Still, she asks Twyla to meet her at the swankiest bar she can reasonably afford for one night, partly for the preservation of her own image, but mostly because it’s Twyla, and she wants to show her the best time possible.

When Alexis gets to the bar, Twyla is already there, looking as ever like sunshine personified in one of the Isabel Marant tops Alexis had given her, paired with some Old Navy jeans. Not even realizing she’d been carrying any tension, Alexis physically relaxes at the sight of her old friend.

Years down the line, this is the moment she will look back on as the moment she should have known she was in love.

On this night, she’s over budget before they’re even a fraction as tipsy as they used to get at the Wobbly Elm, and Twyla insists that they go back to her hotel room and raid the mini bar. One minute she’s asking Alexis if she’d rather have tiny vodka or tiny tequila, and the next they’re kissing on top of crisp hotel bedding.

As she slips her fingers beneath the chiffon top that once was hers, Alexis can’t help but giggle. Twyla smiles against her lips and asks what’s so funny, but Alexis doesn’t really know. It’s something about what it took to get here. About how she’d gotten it so wrong when she went after Mutt. About how Twyla still ended up being her friend and confidant despite that mess. About how she’s taking clothes she used to wear off of that friend. She’s not willing to stop kissing Twyla long enough to explain any of this, so she just shakes her head and slides her hand up Twyla’s back, deftly unhooking her bra. Twyla sighs into her mouth as Alexis moves her hand to her chest, and Twyla responds to the touch by slipping a hand up Alexis’s thigh, beneath the short hem of her dress. 

No place, including Schitt’s Creek, had ever truly felt like home to Alexis. But something about this, with Twyla, feels safe and familiar in a way she’d been missing.

  
  


In the morning, Alexis briefly considers playing up her hangover, making booze the scapegoat for them falling into bed together if necessary. But when Twyla wakes up, she just smiles and apologizes that she has to get going to make her flight. She’s not cold or distant or trying to get Alexis to leave, but she also doesn’t kiss her, and Alexis has to tamp down her disappointment at that. She watches as Twyla climbs out of bed, tugging the sheet out along with her to wrap around herself, like women do in movies. Once she’s in the bathroom, Alexis pulls the covers over her face and groans pitifully at the cliche her own brain had supplied. She’s felt like she was in a movie before, but with the exception of her romantic arc with Ted, those were usually sexy action thrillers with big costume budgets and a need for subtitles. This is something quieter, simpler in scale but somehow more complex in its story. It’s undeniably romantic, but Alexis can’t figure out if it’s a comedy or drama, what act they’re in, or if the ending will be happy.

* * *

Their first time sleeping together in New York is actually their second time overall. The night of David and Patrick’s wedding, Alexis, Twyla, and Stevie had had a truly unforgettable girls’ night together at the motel. Maybe that’s why Stevie is the first person Alexis confides in about this, when they meet for brunch, which has become their tradition whenever Stevie is in New York on Rosebud business, or to see Ruth.

“I kind of wondered if there was something between you two,” Stevie says as she cuts into her French toast. She’s sitting fully cross-legged in her chair, wearing a blazer over her jeans and T-shirt instead of one of her customary plaid button-downs, her hair pulled back in a loose ponytail. Still Stevie, just a little more confident now.

“You didn’t feel left out, did you?” Alexis asks, when what she really means is, “Am I that obvious?”

“No, I have _no_ complaints about that night,” Stevie assures her. “It wasn’t even just about then, though. It’s like whenever you were near her, you couldn’t help but lean in.”

Alexis stares at her. So she _had_ been that obvious.

“What?” Stevie asks defensively. “Just because I pretend I don’t care about anyone else doesn’t mean I don’t notice things.”

* * *

The next time Twyla texts and asks if she’d like some company for a weekend, Alexis declines initially, but not out of any fears about her burgeoning feelings. Work has been going well, and she’s just built up a consistent enough client base to be able to pay rent on her own place. The weekend Twyla is free to fly out is the weekend Alexis is moving. But Twyla, being Twyla, offers to come help her, with genuine enthusiasm.

  
  


It’s possible that she regrets the offer a bit once she’s in the passenger seat of a U-Haul being driven by Alexis, but ultimately, they get to the new building in one piece. Unfortunately, the elevator is out of service, which the building manager insists is just bad timing. Alexis hasn’t accumulated too many new belongs, but they’re still sweaty and exhausted by the time they get everything up to the third floor. 

There’s a case of wine coolers that Alexis had been sure to put into the fridge as soon as they got there, and she’d promised to order Thai as her thank-you meal. But she really needs to shower first. So does Twyla.

It simply doesn’t make sense for Twyla to go all the way back to her hotel when she can shower here and borrow some clothes. That doesn’t necessarily mean they _have_ to shower together, but when Alexis asks, “Do you wanna just, like, hop in with me?” Twyla simply agrees to it with a smile and a “Sure!” as if Alexis had asked if she’s down for potstickers and spring rolls. She self-consciously reasons out loud that they’d be saving water, even as Twyla is already following her into the bathroom.

In the end, they don’t save much water, and their Thai food goes cold on the very tasteful welcome mat Twyla brought as a housewarming gift.

They eat the takeout anyway, sitting on the floor of what will be the living room. Alexis picks at her noodles while shopping on her phone for a microwave and a couch, glancing every now and then at Twyla in her borrowed leggings and loose t-shirt that slips down off of one of her shoulders. She gets the sense that Twyla does intend to go back to her hotel eventually, and so she gives her _the look_. It’s the look she’s given many men and a few other women before, but this time, her heart is at stake in a way it usually wasn’t. Maybe Twyla knows that, or maybe she just doesn’t think about Alexis looking at anyone like this and not really meaning it. She hopes both things are true as they kiss their way to the bed Alexis had been sure to make up, their fingers tangling in each other’s still-damp hair.

  
  


In the morning, Alexis jolts awake with a squeak at the sound of Twyla tripping on her way off the bed. She hadn’t set an alarm, hadn’t planned to stay, and now she has to rush back to her hotel to get her things so she can head to the airport. Still half asleep, Alexis nearly asks her to stay, to come back to bed, to miss her flight. But she’s not able to get her words together quickly enough, which is probably for the best. She expects Twyla to be out the door before she’s blinked the room into full focus, but then Twyla is right there, one knee on the bed, arms flung around Alexis in a tight hug.

“Let’s do this again soon,” she says. “I can’t wait to see this place all put together.”

Alexis nods, turning her face to smell her shampoo in Twyla’s hair.

After she’s gone, she still feels Twyla’s arms around her. She feels her as she digs the blender out of her box of kitchen things. She feels her as she throws a smoothie together with the few groceries she’d grabbed before the move. She feels her when she sits against the wall where she’ll put the sofa she picked last night, sipping on her smoothie and envisioning what the apartment will look like once she’s made it her own.

The place hadn’t come with much, which is fine. Initially, she’d even planned to remove the one accent it had come with, which is the gauzy, reddish curtains on the windows. But now that she sees the muted morning sunshine filtered through them, casting a warm pink light through the room, she knows they have to stay. It feels serene and romantic, a reprieve from the hustle and bustle of work and life in the city. She hopes one day, Twyla will stay long enough to soak it in with her.

* * *

Alexis isn’t sure which one of them starts dating someone else first, because neither of them say anything about it right away.

Work picks up for Alexis, but even in her few moments of quiet per day, she finds time to imagine how she might invite Twyla to stay longer, spending precious minutes overthinking why Twyla only ever flies out for a day and a half, and being sad that distance is, once again, making it impossible for her to maintain any consistency in one of her most important relationships. So she fills that time instead by entertaining invitations to dinner, and occasionally making a Tinder date herself. She gets some nice meals and conversations out of it, kisses a few of the guys, and sleeps with even less of them. There are a few second dates, but nothing ever gets too serious.

At some point during all of this, Twyla tells Alexis over the phone that she’s been dating someone for a little while. His name is Charlie, and he sounds downright pleasant. He has a good job with a major software company, and chooses to work remotely so he can live in Schitt’s Creek, close to his aging parents. They met when Patrick brought him into the Cafe to inquire about joining the softball team. Alexis swallows hard and asks as enthusiastically as she can to see a picture. Twyla texts her a selfie she took of the two of them, both smiling brightly. Charlie looks sweet and normal and Alexis is both relieved and devastated.

“I’m happy for you Twy,” she says, forcing a smile even though no one is there to see. After she hangs up, she immediately opens Tinder to find a distraction.

* * *

Charlie is hesitant to travel, not wanting to be away from his family, so he doesn’t accompany Twyla on her next visit. Still, things are different. In an act of self-preservation, Alexis organizes a weekend of group fun with the contacts-turned-friends who she’s trying to start her own firm with. It goes well, because it’s difficult for anyone to dislike Twyla. They’re all charmed by her sunny disposition, and amused and sympathetic when they hear her bizarre stories. It goes well, that is, until they’re several hours and several drinks into the night, and she catches herself gazing for a little too long at Twyla, who is laughing at something Sasha is saying. She looks away quickly and accidentally meets Xavier’s eye. He smiles knowingly.

“What?” she asks, but she’s not fooling anyone.

“You need a shot,” he says simply, before heading to the bar.

* * *

As the year comes to a close, Alexis finally secures an office space. Come January 1st, Alexis Rose Consulting will no longer just be her, but officially a tiny firm with an address, desks for her team, and a corner that she’s transformed into a space to meet with clients, complete with a couple of plush chairs, a stylish area rug, and a ficus.

Before they open for business, Alexis decides to christen the office by using it as the venue for a little New Years Eve bash. Everyone is going to be there: her team, Xavier, Sasha, and Riley; Stevie and Ruth; David and Patrick; and Twyla. Everyone.

“Everyone?” Xavier asks when Alexis shows him the list. “Doesn’t your girlfriend have a boyfriend? I don’t see him on here.”

“I can fire you, you know!” she says, snatching the list back with a huff.

It’s not as if Alexis hadn’t invited him. She may have hoped that, as usual, Charlie would opt not to come. But no one has to know that. No one has to know she’s happy that Twyla is coming on her own.

  
  


On New Years Eve, before everyone else arrives, Alexis gathers her team to toast to new beginnings. They’re still sipping on those first glasses of champagne, and Alexis is getting the music going, when Stevie and Ruth arrive.

“Couldn’t wait for us to get the party started?” Stevie asks, literally sparkling in a silver-sequined blazer and shorts set. Alexis dashes over as fast as her heels and her full glass will permit and scoops Stevie up in a big hug. Then she turns to Ruth and gives her a hug and a kiss on the cheek, complimenting her on her stunning black-and-silver jumpsuit.

She takes them over to meet her colleagues, her attention split between introductions, and listening for the door. Nearly 45 minutes pass before the rest of the party arrives.

“Nice of you to show,” Alexis says to David by way of greeting.

“Hello to you too, and we are still _well_ within the fashionable window,” David retorts, looking annoyingly sharp in a subtle all-black jacquard suit, his silver chain hanging beneath his tie.

“That would be my fault,” Patrick says. “I made the mistake of asking David if he preferred my outfit with or without a tie. Held us up a bit.”

Patrick had ultimately opted for no tie with his dark blue jacket and black button-down. He’s also holding a gift bag, which Alexis assumes is for her, so she smiles approvingly and tugs on the lapel of his jacket.

“Hm! That still sounds like it was David’s fault.”

David opens his mouth and moves his hands in preparation to argue, but a voice from behind them interrupts.

“It was my fault, actually.”

David and Patrick part, and Alexis’s heart stops as she comes face-to-face with Twyla. Twyla, wearing one of her gifted dresses, a long-sleeved, form-fitting, sparkling gold-and-silver piece. Twyla, who is so much shorter than Alexis, so the hem doesn’t end quite so high on her. Twyla, who is her good friend, who can only be her good friend, who is here, looking like every penny that she’d won in that lottery and more.

“I accidentally booked a different hotel,” Twyla explains, and Alexis realizes she needs to close her mouth. “I asked if they’d still swing by and get me so I wouldn’t get lost.”

Still stuck on how stunning Twyla looks, Alexis bites her lip and goes to hug her, wrapping her arms around her tight. When Twyla hugs her back just as tightly, her heart flutters.

“Hey, babe,” Alexis says softly. She can get away with calling Twyla babe, because she calls everyone babe, but she hopes that the _way_ she says it lets Twyla know she’s special.

“Hi Alexis,” Twyla says. She only ever calls Alexis by her name, but Alexis loves to hear her say it more than anyone.

The hug is long. Alexis fights the urge to trace her fingers down Twyla’s spine, knowing the open back of the dress leaves a constellation of freckles on display. She once woke up early enough to admire them while Twyla slept with her back to her. She wishes she could see them again, that she could take her time looking, mapping out the stars. She pulls back before she can give in, resting her hands on her shoulders and smiling.

“Great dress,” she says with a wink.

Twyla beams. “Thanks. My friend gave it to me. And she has _great_ taste.”

She looks Alexis up and down, and Alexis worries if her heart does one more weird thing, she’s going to need to put herself in a cab to the hospital. She wrangles the feeling, putting her hand on her hip and posing in her plunging, long-sleeved, brassy-gold mini dress.

“Just a little reward to myself for finally opening this office.”

“I know, congratulations!” Twyla says, looking around. “I’m so excited for you. I knew you could do it.”

“Thank you,” Alexis says, preening. “And don’t worry about being late. We’ll just go ahead and blame David.”

David and Patrick had stepped away to join the rest of the party, but they’re still close enough to overhear that.

“Mm, love you so much, sis!” David calls from behind her.

“Stick a canapé in it, David!”

When she looks back, David looks like he was about to do just that, scowling with a smoked salmon crostini in hand.

With that, Alexis laces her fingers with Twyla’s and tugs her into the party. She offers to take everyone on a tour of the little office, but she keeps her arm linked with Twyla’s the whole time.

  
  


Later, when Twyla is talking with Stevie and Ruth, and Alexis is trying to pull up the Times Square livestream on her computer so they can watch the ball drop, Xavier comes over with a bottle to top off her glass.

“Look at you two,” he says, looking across the room at Twyla. “You look like a couple of Academy Awards.”

“Mhm,” Alexis hums noncommittally, very focused on her computer.

“You trying to be like Bong Joon-ho’s Oscars at midnight?” he presses on, sipping his own champagne. “You know, that picture where he made them…”

He brings the rim of his glass in one hand gently to the neck of the bottle in his other and makes a smooching sound. Alexis rolls her eyes.

“I’m a little busy hostessing right now. Why don’t you worry about who _you’re_ gonna kiss?”

“Oh I already have a plan,” he says with a grin. “Sasha for sure, Riley’s a maybe. Stevie rolls her eyes at me about as much as you do, so she and her girlfriend are probably a no. And I don’t know, your brother and his husband are cute. Think I’ve got a shot?”

“Ew, Xavier! One of these days, I’m going to fire you for real.”

“Well, until that happens, you wanna talk about it? Or, if it’s not gonna happen with your gal pal, I’ll be your midnight kiss.”

“Um, hello, I am your boss.”

Xavier shrugs. “Hasn’t stopped me before.”

Alexis laughs despite herself. Xavier had been the assistant to a vapid influencer-turned-actress, who’d hired Alexis after she got into hot water over some uncouth Tweets. It wasn’t a job Alexis wanted to take, but she was doing what she had to do to expand her client base. She didn’t end up getting a long-term client out of it, but better than that, she poached Xavier, who was too sharp to be picking up coffee and keeping a calendar for an ungrateful celebutante. He was also too snarky for his own good, and probably would have ended up fired anyway. Alexis has a blast with him… most of the time. Sometimes it’s like having a brother around all the time again.

“I think you’re a little too much like David to have a shot there,” she says, wrinkling her nose. “And I’ve kissed Patrick, it’s nothing to write home about.”

“ _Excusez moi?_ ” Xavier laughs. “What on _earth_ are the circumstances that led to you kissing your brother’s husband?”

“If I tell you, will you lay off of…” she looks over at Twyla “...the other thing?”

“Mm-mm, I can multitask. You know this. It’s on my resume.”

Alexis sighs and downs her champagne. “Can you annoy me _and_ refill me?”

“In my sleep,” Xavier says, emptying the rest of the bottle into her glass.

  
  


By a quarter to midnight, Alexis is tipsy and planning on adopting Xavier’s approach to the midnight kiss. If she kisses basically everyone, she can kiss Twyla and it won’t be a big deal. It’s a totally solid plan.

The countdown begins, and they all huddle around Alexis’s monitor to watch the ball drop. When they reach “one” and cry out a chorus of “Happy New Year!” Alexis feels buoyed by the voices of her friends, all gathered here in the place where her business is about to take off. 

While everyone with someone to kiss is occupied, Alexis holds her glass out to Riley, who clinks it with theirs with a shy smile. Riley and Sasha are both friends of Xavier’s, who he’d recruited once they’d started talking about getting an office together. Xavier and Sasha have a long, storied history, which is how they’ll undoubtedly go from making out tonight, to rating each other’s Tinder matches tomorrow. Xavier met Riley later, in college, in what must have been a real opposites-attract situation, and Alexis still can’t quite figure out what it is that makes the two of them fit together the way they do. She’s seen Riley shrink away from physical touch and slip quietly into the background of social situations, but never with Xavier, even though his energy level is always at 100. And speak of the devil…

“Happy New Year, babes!” Xavier sings, sidling up to Riley with Sasha in tow. The two of them squeeze in close, flanking Riley and each kissing one of their cheeks, making them smile and blush and squirm.

“I hate you guys,” they murmur, but Sasha pulls them into a hug and they go easily, giggling and swaying along with her. Xavier turns his attention to Alexis.

“Whaddya say?” he asks, presenting his cheek to her with a grin. “Before it becomes an HR issue?”

Alexis rolls her eyes, sets her glass down on the desk, and takes Xavier’s face in her hands, giving him a sweet but brief kiss on the lips. She pulls away and he looks pleasantly surprised, smoothing down the silky black lapels on his emerald green, velvet suit jacket.

“Well,” he says. “Your girl is missing out.”

He turns away, and before she can insist, through the lump in her throat, that Twyla isn’t her girl, she feels an arm around her shoulders and another around her waist, and finds herself wrapped up between Ruth and Stevie.

“That’s not who I was expecting your New Years kiss to be,” Stevie slurs through her champagne haze.

“I think she wanted the honor,” Ruth whispers to Alexis, loud enough for Stevie to hear.

“Nooo, not meee,” Stevie protests. “I’m _talking_ about…”

“Mm-mm, mm-mm,” Alexis says, shaking her head and holding a finger to to Stevie’s lips. Everything is a little wavy from all of the champagne, and she can’t be sure if Twyla is within earshot, so she figures it’s better to be safe than sorry. She replaces her finger with her lips, giving Stevie a big smooch.

“Happy New Year, Stevie!” she says too loudly when she pulls back, and Stevie snickers, covering her mouth bashfully. Alexis turns to Ruth. “I’m so sorry, I should’ve asked-”

But Ruth just grins and leans in, her arm still around Alexis, giving her a quick and sweet peck on the lips.

“No sweat. Thanks for having us,” she says, and Alexis is so happy that Stevie found this total babe of a woman.

She leaves the happy couple swaying too slowly to the dance music playing, and looks around the room. Someone brought out the desserts, and Sasha and Riley are sharing some chocolate mousse by one of the desks, while Xavier chats up David and Patrick, a plate of cookies in hand. He’s clearly won David over with the sweets, but Patrick seems to be hiding behind David a bit. He’s engaged in the conversation, though, and Alexis wonders if he’d just seen _her_ kiss a third of the people in the room, and wanted to avoid another housewarming incident. Which is fair.

There’s only so much of the room left for Twyla to be in, and Alexis spots her in the little seating area, on one of the plush chairs. She’s Facetiming on her phone, presumably with Charlie, and if Alexis had had a little less champagne, she might be feeling a little less loose, and she might leave her be while she completes her call. Instead, she straightens up, fixes the hem of her dress, and strides over to Twyla. She folds her arms on the back of the chair, and ducks her head down so she’s on camera with her. Twyla jumps a little, then laughs.

“Sorry, babe,” Alexis says before looking into the camera and waving. “Hi Charlie! Happy New Year!”

 _“Hey Alexis, Happy New Year!”_ he says, cheerily. _“How’s the party going?”_

“So good. Wish you could’ve joined us.”

_“I know, I’m sorry. But Jasper and I are having our own little party, aren’t we?”_

Charlie turns his phone so they can see Jasper, his adorable beagle, snoozing away beside him on his sofa.

“Looks like a real party animal,” Alexis says, a habit inherited from Ted. And like Ted, Charlie is highly amused.

_“Well, I should let the real party animals get back to it. Happy New Year you two. Text me when you’re back at the hotel, Twy? Even if it’s late, I just wanna know you got back okay.”_

“I will,” Twyla says, blowing a kiss. “‘Night, Charlie.”

_“‘Night, sweetheart.”_

Twyla hangs up, and Alexis comes around the chair to offer her a hand up, which ends up being a good thing, because Twyla stumbles and has the steady herself against Alexis.

“Oh! You okay?”

Twyla laughs and nods. “Mhm. Just a little too much champagne.”

She tips her head back to look up at Alexis dreamily, and without thinking, Alexis brushes her hair behind her ear. At the touch, Twyla seems to focus a little.

“Missed you, Alexis,” she says. Her eyes are definitely on her mouth now, and Alexis is going to need a defibrillator.

“I missed you too. And I bet you miss Charlie,” she says quickly. “I’m so sorry he couldn’t come, I _so_ wanna meet him for real.”

“Yeah,” Twyla sighs, pouting. “No midnight kiss for me.”

Alexis can’t help herself, she’s hanging by a champagne soaked thread. “Well, if you wanted, I-”

Twyla’s lips are on hers before she’s finished the sentence, and it’s like coming home. The party falls away and for one sweet, suspended moment, it’s just them. Alexis pushes a hand into Twyla’s hair and deepens the kiss, and Twyla just presses her body into Alexis’s, so close, but not close enough, never close enough. Alexis’s other hand slides down Twyla’s bare back and pulls her in, making her breath hitch.

And then, just as quickly as they’d been swept up in it, the spell is broken.

“What the fuck is _zhampagne_?”

Xavier calls the question out, and the room materializes back around them, making them both pull away.

“A little gift from home,” Patrick explains, and Alexis turns around to see where Xavier had pulled the bottle out from the gift bag Patrick had come in with.

“Please consider it a gag gift,” David chimes in with a grimace.

Stevie leans over Xavier’s shoulder and takes the bottle. “He’s just saying that because marriage has made him a lightweight. The last time these two had some, I had to open and run their store for over an hour the day after.”

“Why don’t you tell the class what _you_ did last time you had some,” David says. “I believe it was my wedding night.”

Stevie bites her lip, her eyes flitting guiltily over to Alexis and Twyla. Everyone else’s eyes follow, and Alexis tugs anxiously at one of her earrings, looking down at Twyla. Twyla clears her throat, eyes on the floor.

“I think I should go,” she says.

* * *

Alexis never actually gets to meet Charlie.

She and Twyla don’t talk much after the New Year’s party. She’s busy getting her firm off the ground, and she knows Twyla is busy too, with the Cafe, the Jazzagals, and the boyfriend. In the spring, when Alexis and her team have settled into some steady contracts, she calls Twyla to see if the two of them are available to come visit in a few weeks. There’s a long silence on the line.

“We actually… broke up.”

The hope Alexis feels is tertiary to surprise and sadness, but she’s ashamed to have felt it all the same.

“Oh… my god, Twy, what happened?”

She can practically hear the brave smile over the phone.

“It just… wasn’t working. It’s… fine. I’m fine. He was so nice, even in the end. I think we might even be able to be friends. It’ll take some time, but…” She sighs heavily. “Anyway, I don’t think I’d be much fun right now if I came to visit.”

“Oh my god, babe, don’t even worry about that. I mean, you’re more than welcome to come. I still have, like, all of the Sunrise Bay DVDs, we could totally just pop those on, get some ice cream, and chill. No pressure though.”

“Thank you. I’d really like to see you, Alexis, I’m just not sure I’m up for the traveling. Can I get back to you?”

  
  


Weeks pass, and though they text casually, Twyla never brings up the potential trip. A few days before the weekend Alexis had suggested, she takes matters into her own hands and books a trip back to Schitt’s Creek.

  
  


David answers the door when she arrives at his and Patrick’s house, crossing his arms.

“This is _quite_ the imposition.”

“Stop, David, Patrick said it was fine,” she says, pushing past him and tugging her suitcase over the threshold.

“You asked him on purpose because you knew he wouldn’t say no.”

“Ugh!” is all she says before marching into the bathroom and slamming the door. It’s pretty late, and she doesn’t have time to do a full shower and wardrobe change, so she just freshens up quickly and heads back out. David is still in the living room, hands on his hips now.

“What is going on with you?” he asks, trying to maintain a tone of annoyance, but they’ve gotten close enough that Alexis knows he’s concerned.

“Nothing,” she says, unconvincingly. “I’m gonna head to the Cafe.”

“It’s closing soon.”

“I know, David!”

Though it looks like it’s taking a toll on him, David bites his tongue, giving Alexis space to fill in the gaps herself. It’s kind of him. That’s somehow more frustrating.

“I just need to go see Twyla,” she says, trying for casual, but she’s playing with her hair and she knows that gives her away.

“Is everything okay?”

“Of course not! She and that very nice guy just broke up.”

“Umm, that was weeks ago.”

“I’m sorry, how many mall pretzels are the acceptable amount to consume post-breakup?”

“I’m not judging her, I’m saying she seems fine. We see her almost every day, and-”

“Okay, well I know her a little better than you do!”

At that moment, the front door opens and Patrick comes in, returning from softball practice judging by the way he’s dressed.

“Hey Alexis,” he says. Then, reading the room, “Is everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine,” David replies softly, and when Alexis looks at him, she can see that he gets it now. “Alexis just needs a ride to the Cafe.”

“I can take her,” Patrick says, jingling the keys he’s still holding.

  
  


The drive is quiet. Patrick has the radio on low, and he doesn’t ask about the conversation he’d walked in on. Alexis wonders how close he is with Charlie, if they’re just teammates, or if they’ve become friends. She wonders if it’s weird for him to see Charlie at practice, and Twyla at the Cafe. She wonders if Charlie confided in Patrick, if he knows what went wrong. The drive is too quiet.

“Thank you for the ride,” Alexis says, breaking the silence. “And thank you for letting me stay with you. I thought about staying at the motel, but it just…” She fusses with the hem of her dress. “I thought it would be weird to stay there alone.”

“You’re always welcome to stay with us. David might put up a fight, but you know he’d never actually turn you away.”

“No, I know.”

After a beat, Patrick asks, “Are you sure everything is okay?”

“Totally,” she says. “I just… haven’t seen Twy since my party and I’m looking forward to seeing her.”

“I’m sure she’ll be happy to see you too.”

Something about the way he says it makes Alexis look up at him, but his eyes are on the road, and his expression is neutral.

She thanks him again when he drops her off, and as he drives away, she takes a moment to just look at the Cafe, with its amended signs that now say “Twyla’s Cafe Tropical.” Now that she’s seeing it in person, she has to admit the name actually works.

When she steps inside, a young waitress pops up from behind the counter, schooling her disappointed expression into a pleasant, customer service smile.

“Hi there, welcome!” she says. “We’re actually just about to close, but depending on what you want, I can see if they can whip it up for you to go.”

“Um, that’s so sweet of you,” Alexis says, going up to the counter and resting her fingertips on its surface, “but I was actually just looking for Twyla. Is she here tonight?”

“Oh,” the waitress, whose name tag reads ‘Maya’, says hesitantly. “We’re actually not supposed to confirm if a stranger asks if an employee is in. It’s a policy, for safety. Not that I think you’re, like, a stalker or something!”

“No, I get it, that is a good policy to have. Like, I _wish_ my friends would have told Jared Leto I wasn’t around whenever he’d come looking for me at parties.”

“Wait,” Maya says. “You’re not… are you Alexis?”

“Yes!” she says, surprised, confused, and hopeful. She points to the gold “A” necklace around her neck. “That’s me.”

“Oh my god, I feel like I’m meeting a celebrity! I mean, I guess you literally have been a celebrity, but also Twyla just talks about you so much, I feel like I know you!”

“She does?”

“I’ll go get her.”

There’s music playing in the kitchen, but the stillness of the empty cafe makes Alexis antsy, so she straightens her dress and combs her fingers through her hair a few times. When Maya comes back with Twyla following, Twyla is also smoothing out her ponytail.

“Alexis!” she exclaims, her smile as bright as ever despite her tired eyes. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, when you couldn’t come to see me, I thought I’d use my time off to come see… everyone here. Anyway, I just got in, and I wanted to pop in and say hi.”

“Hi,” Twyla says softly. “Um, do you want something to eat? I could-”

“No no, I know you’re closing-”

“It’s no trouble really.”

Alexis bites her lip. “How about a drink? If you’ll have one with me?”

Twyla nods. “Sure. Um, Maya, you can go ahead and go home, I’ll finish up here.”

“Okay!” Maya says, skipping off to the back, apparently unaware of any tension in the room.

Twyla gets out two large wine glasses, and one of the slightly nicer bottles of red, pouring them each a generous amount. They clink their glasses together and each take a long sip.

“So how are you?” Alexis asks carefully.

“Fine,” Twyla says, more to her glass than to Alexis. “Just been keeping busy, you know?”

“Well the place looks great.”

“Thanks.”

A sip of wine only fills so much of the silence that follows. When they finally break it, it’s at the same time.

“Do you wanna come sit-?”

“Do you wanna come to my-?”

They laugh awkwardly, and Alexis waits for Twyla to continue.

“I um… I can make us some better drinks at my place, if you don’t mind waiting for me to finish closing up.”

Alexis shakes her head, maybe a little too enthusiastically. “I don’t mind.”

  
  


Using some of her lottery winnings, Twyla had also moved into a new apartment in the last year. She’d had Charlie to help her move in, and Alexis had only seen pictures until now. When Twyla had sent those pictures, Alexis had to try very hard to not think about whether she and Charlie had celebrated the move the way they had when she’d helped Alexis move.

The apartment is bigger than Twyla’s old place, fully put together and lived in now. While Twyla goes to the kitchen to fix them some cocktails, Alexis takes in the living room. At the sight of the fireplace, her mind fast-forwards to winter, to the thought of snuggling on the couch while a log crackles and glows, Twyla swaddled up in one of Alexis’s chunky knit sweaters. She pushes the thought away and focuses instead on the framed photos on the mantle. There are plenty of group shots of the Jazzagals, a photo of little Twyla with her mom and grandma at a park, and a slightly blurry shot from after one of the _Cabaret_ shows, Alexis and Twyla each kissing one of Stevie’s cheeks, all of them in costume. There’s one photo that Charlie is in, a group shot from what Alexis assumes is the murder mystery party she wasn’t able to attend back in October. He and Twyla look happy.

But the photo she’s most interested in is the one that’s just of her and Twyla with their arms wrapped around each other. It was taken by Ray at David and Patrick’s wedding reception, so Alexis is in her white gown, her heels making her tower over Twyla, who looks stunning in one of Alexis’s black dresses, beaming even with her cheek smooshed into Alexis’s chest. Alexis bites her lip. She wants to be that close again.

Twyla comes back and hands her a glass, which they clink and sip like they had with the wine. This time, it’s a vodka cranberry, emphasis on the vodka. Alexis coughs.

“Sorry,” Twyla says sheepishly. “I guess I still do a heavy pour.”

“No, it’s good,” Alexis says, clearing her throat. “You’re a very generous bartender.”

They sit on the sofa, which is probably a curb-find based on the age of it, but it’s deep-purple and very comfortable. Alexis still doesn’t know where to start, so she gives her first question a second try.

“So you’re doing okay?”

Twyla nods while taking a long sip of her drink. “Mhm. Yeah, it’s been a little weird, but the Cafe keeps me busy, and I’ve got the Jazzagals, and oh, Jocelyn is gonna announce what the next community theater production is going to be soon, so I’ll probably audition for that, and I’ve started making my own jam, which took a few times to get right, but I’ve got some peach in the fridge that isn’t too bad.”

Despite her usual smile, or maybe because of it, Alexis’s heart breaks.

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asks gently.

The mask begins to fade, and Twyla looks down into her glass. “I don’t want to dump all of that on you. Besides, it’s been over for weeks now.”

“I know, and you don’t have to talk about it, but… I wasn’t there for you then. I want to be now. If you want.”

Twyla is quiet for a long moment. Then, with a sad laugh, she turns to face Alexis, slumping so her shoulder rests against the back of the couch.

“You’d think it would be easier when things end on good terms,” she says. “But it’s actually easier when the guy is a jerk. At least then, you know what went wrong. I still don’t know why it didn’t work.”

Alexis understands, of course she does. But with Ted, there was a clear reason why they had to say goodbye. She still can’t fathom why Charlie would end things.

“Did he… say anything?”

“Just that… he felt like we were never fully connecting. Like something was missing.” She shrugs. “I guess we just weren’t compatible.”

“You deserve so much better than that, Twy-”

“No, Alexis, he’s a good guy. It seemed… hard for him to tell me it wasn’t working. I thought maybe if I cut back at the Cafe and spent more time with him… but he told me he’d never ask me to stop doing something I love. So I just… I don’t know what I could have done differently.”

“Twy. You are the best person I know. I can’t think of anything you would have to do differently to make someone happy.”

For a moment, it looks like Twyla might cry, and then suddenly, she leans forward and kisses Alexis, gentle, but resolute. It’s everything that Alexis wants, but her own guilt makes her pull away.

“Twy-”

“I wanted to come see you this weekend,” she says in a rush. “Sooner than that. I wanted to see you after, but I thought… I thought I didn’t deserve…”

Wherever that thought was going, it was completely unacceptable, and Alexis expresses this by leaning in and kissing her again. Given this permission, all bets are off, and Twyla kneels up on the sofa to kiss her back firmly. Alexis moans into it, which turns into a yelp when one of their precariously held glasses tips too far and splashes a little on her knee. Without a word, Twyla takes Alexis’s glass and runs it with hers to the kitchen.

There’s a momentum now that Alexis doesn’t want to lose, so she follows Twyla, who places the glasses in the sink and turns to find herself pressed into the counter, being kissed again. It’s messy and graceless but it’s divine, so much pent-up _want_ to satiate, and very little patience between the two of them. On pure instinct, Alexis gets her hands under Twyla’s thighs and hoists her up onto the counter and, _oh, that’s fun,_ she thinks. She’s been lifted onto her fair share of surfaces during a passionate makeout sesh, but she’s never had the opportunity to do it to someone else. And when Twyla locks her legs around her, pulling her in as close as possible, she knows she’ll have to find a way to do it again in the future.

Their enthusiasm is, however, bordering on hazardous, and when Alexis leans into the kiss a little too eagerly, Twyla’s head knocks back against the cabinets.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry…”

But Twyla just laughs, and Alexis’s heart soars.

“It’s okay, I’m okay. But maybe we shouldn’t do this here.”

Twyla’s legs are still wrapped around her, so Alexis slides her off the counter and into her arms, Twyla squeaking in surprise as they nearly tip over, then laughing as she directs Alexis to the bedroom. Once there, Alexis sets her down on her feet, and Twyla straightens up with the hem of Alexis’s dress in her hands, pulling it up and off of her. She looks around for something to do with it, but Alexis doesn’t care, taking it from her and flinging it away somewhere. If it had been comfortable enough to fly in, it will survive on the floor for a night.

Alexis then goes for Twyla’s top, but gets distracted when Twyla kisses her neck and traces her fingers down over the front of her thin bralette. She bites her lip and refocuses, getting the top off and laughing as they get in each other’s way trying to get their bras off. Once they finally succeed, Alexis pulls Twyla back in for another kiss. When she slides her hand up the back of Twyla’s neck and her fingertips hit her ponytail, she gets an idea.

“Can I borrow this?” she asks, plucking at her hair tie.

“Um, sure?” Twyla says, a little dazed. It’s not until Alexis has taken it out, letting Twyla’s hair loose, that her eyes widen with understanding. “ _Oh._ ”

Alexis grins and nudges Twyla toward the bed. Twyla lies back and watches as Alexis ties her hair up in a loose bun and takes off her jewelry, setting it on the nightstand. Then, finally, Alexis is on top of her, helping her get her jeans and socks off, and then her underwear. 

In the past when they’ve done this, Alexis has liked to tease, just fingertips, breath, and maybe the tip of her tongue until Twyla whines for more. She doesn’t have that kind of patience tonight, so she kisses a slow, but straight path down from her stomach to between her legs. She settles in and dips her tongue in right where she knows Twyla wants it most, making her gasp and arch her back. The sound lights Alexis up, and she rocks her hips once against the bed before turning all of her focus back to Twyla. She’s missed the taste of her, missed the way she goes tense until Alexis smooths a hand over her hip or across her belly, reminding her to relax. Right now, Twyla is already close, and she stays tense until she tips over the edge with cry of relief. Alexis moans against her, drawing back a little so as not to overwhelm her too quickly. 

She waits until Twyla has relaxed against the bed and caught her breath before tracing her fingertips up the inside of her thigh. Twyla shivers, but lets her legs fall open wider, so Alexis brings her fingers back between them, keeping her touch light. Twyla shifts, and Alexis looks up to find her looking down at her. Twyla nods for her to continue, so Alexis kisses her thigh and presses a finger inside her. Twyla falls back against her pillow with a sigh, rocking her hips along with the motion of Alexis’s hand. Eventually, Alexis adds a second finger and Twyla gasps, her breathing coming quickly again. Alexis leans up and over to kiss her as she fucks her faster. One of Twyla’s hands goes to the back of Alexis’s neck as she deepens the kiss, and her other hand slips down between them so she can touch herself. Alexis thinks about nudging her hand out of the way, wanting to be solely responsible for Twyla’s pleasure, but then Twyla is coming again, and it’s difficult to be disappointed when Twyla is gasping aborted profanities against her lips and clenching around her fingers.

She kisses her way back down Twyla’s body as she comes down a second time, only withdrawing her fingers partway. She had often approached getting her partners off as a challenge or even a game, one that she got off on succeeding at. Now she wants to succeed more than ever, hoping that she can replace all of Twyla’s sadness and doubt with pleasure and contentment, at least for a little while. So she waits, dropping delicate kisses along Twyla’s stomach, hips, and thighs, until Twyla begins to move again, rocking into Alexis’s fingers. Twyla sounds as overwhelmed as Alexis feels, and she pours all her desperation into working Twyla up to the edge once more, bringing her mouth back down to kiss and lick along with the perfect curl of her fingers. Twyla comes for a third time with a little sob, and Alexis nearly follows just from the sound and feel of her.

“No more, no more,” Twyla pants, and Alexis removes her fingers, wiping her mouth on the back of her hand before sagging happily against her, her cheek pillowed against her thigh. She’s still turned on, but the sound of Twyla catching her breath while she pets at Alexis’s frizzy, hastily tied up hair is nearly as satisfying as anything else would be.

She could drift off like this, and just as she’s about to, Twyla sits up, and Alexis finds herself being encouraged to move up the bed and lie back. Once she’s settled, Twyla leans up over her, smiling and tucking her hair behind her ear before leaning down to kiss her. Alexis sighs into it, the urgency of her own arousal rushing back to the surface, making her lift her hips to seek contact. Twyla gives it to her, sliding a hand down between her legs and gasping when she finds Alexis’s underwear soaked through. Alexis flushes hotter than she already was, but Twyla just keeps kissing her, slipping her hand into her underwear with the same impatience Alexis had felt before. Two of her slim fingers slide in easily, and Alexis arches into it, clinging to Twyla and moaning in relief. This alone would be enough, but Twyla gives her more, using her thumb to circle her clit until Alexis cries out, louder than she means to, coming harder than she has in quite some time. It crashes over her in waves until her mind is left completely, blissfully blank. 

Eventually, Twyla withdraws her hand and snuggles into Alexis’s side. Alexis feels like she’s floating, like they’re floating together, and she never wants to leave.

  
  


In the morning, Alexis wakes slowly from a deeper kind of sleep than she’s used to, but the relaxation seeps out of her quickly when she finds she’s alone. At some point last night, Alexis had pulled off her panties, Twyla had taken the comforter off the bed and put it on top of her hamper, and they’d fallen asleep together under the sheets, Alexis holding Twyla. Now, in Twyla’s place, there’s a note on the pillow.

_Went into work. Come in for breakfast. ☺_

Trying not to overanalyze the note down to the smiley face, Alexis quickly tries to make herself presentable, grateful for the spare underwear she keeps in her purse when she flies, in case the airline ever loses her luggage. She runs a brush through her hair and puts her jewelry back on, but can’t for the life of her find her dress. She gives up looking and opens Twyla’s closet, knowing it’ll be full of her own clothes. The first dress that catches her eye, though, is not one of her old ones, but one of Twyla’s. It’s not so dissimilar from something she’d wear, a flouncy boho-style piece with a paisley print. The material is a little lower quality and the colors are a bit loud for her taste, but now all she wants to do is wear it, to show off her connection to Twyla in some subtle way. She always loves seeing Twyla in her old outfits, and wonders if this would have a similar effect in reverse.

The Cafe is busy by the time Alexis arrives, and Twyla is in the middle of taking orders from a large family seated at one of the circular tables. Maya spots her, though, and waves her over to an open seat at the counter.

“Hi again!” Maya says chipperly. “Twy said if you came in and she was busy, you should order whatever you want and it’d be on the house.”

“I feel so bad,” Alexis says. “If I’d known she had a busy morning, I wouldn’t have… stopped by so late.”

“Oh, she wasn’t even on the schedule, actually. She does this sometimes. It’s nice to have a boss who cares enough to pitch in, you know?”

“Totally,” Alexis says, watching as Twyla moves on to another table.

“You like smoothies, right?” Maya asks. “Today’s ingredients for the harvest smoothie actually go really well together, so I can recommend that. Or if you wanted to treat yourself, there’s a french toast special, or the farmer’s breakfast-”

“A smoothie would be great,” Alexis says.

That smoothie is nearly halfway finished by the time Twyla stops behind the counter to chat, apologizing for the delay.

“No, it’s great that business is so good,” Alexis says. “And it’s so good of you to be such a hands-on boss.”

“Thanks. Hey, um, is that my dress?”

“Mhm. Mhm, yeah, I um…” She lowers her voice. “I couldn’t find mine. So I just… grabbed the first dress I saw in your closet. I hope you don’t mind.”

“No it’s fine,” Twyla says, and Alexis wishes she’d give her just a little more to go one. And then, like an answered prayer, she does. “I’m gonna work through the lunch rush, but then I can go home and look for your dress and… maybe give it back to you over dinner?”

Hope blooms in Alexis chest. That almost sounds like a _date._

“Yes,” she says, smiling. “That sounds perfect.”

  
  


She’s still smiling as she walks over to Rose Apothecary after breakfast, thinking about where they might go for dinner and what they’ll talk about. The bell chimes over the door as she enters the store, and she sees Patrick at the register. He smiles placidly, knowingly, and Alexis is reminded of nice, sweet Charlie.

“‘Morning,” Patrick says. “You have a good time with Twyla last night?”

“Yes,” Alexis says, walking up to the counter and tucking her hair behind her ear anxiously. “Yes, it was a good night.”

He doesn’t say anything, like he’s waiting for her to say more, but she doesn’t know what’s okay to say here. He takes pity on her.

“You don’t have to tiptoe around me about this, Alexis.”

She forces a laugh. “Why would I be…”

“I think you think you had something to do with their breakup.”

Alexis pushes a lip balm back in line with the rest of its display, not meeting Patrick’s eye. “Did I?”

He sighs and leans on the counter with both hands. “I can only tell you what I know. I know that Charlie didn’t want to hurt her. I know that he felt that neither of them were getting everything they needed out of the relationship. I know he’s not mad at her, he’s just disappointed he couldn’t make it work.” He pauses. “I also know that love isn’t something you can really fake. It’s hard to pretend you’re in love when you’re not, and it’s hard to pretend you’re not when you are.”

Alexis smiles despite herself. “I guess you’re right.”

He leans in with a smirk. “I know I am. Major firsthand experience.”

She swats him on the arm teasingly and they both laugh.

“Listen, David’s on a product pickup right now, but when he gets back, one of us can give you a ride back to the house if you want.”

“Could I actually just borrow your key?”

He glances over the counter, down at her heels. “Sure, but it’s a long walk.”

“That’s okay. I could use the fresh air.”

  
  


Even after the long walk, Alexis spends most of a long shower thinking about what to say to Twyla over dinner that night. She loves Twyla, she knows this, she’s loved her for a long time, but although Twyla seems to return some level of those feelings, she’s afraid of coming on too strong. Everyone keeps acting like the breakup is old news, but what if it’s still too soon for Twyla to have moved on? It’s clear that the whole thing had been hard for her, and that it still stings a bit now. Alexis hasn’t always approached things she wanted delicately, but she knows she needs to tread carefully here. Twyla is too important.

After her shower, she almost puts Twyla’s dress back on, but she knows she should give it back at dinner. She doesn’t look at her phone until after she’s dressed in her own clothes and has helped herself to a cookie from the pantry. That’s when she sees the five missed calls from Xavier, and knows right away that she’s not making it to dinner tonight.

She calls Xavier back and immediately goes into damage control mode. They’d been working with the stars of a highly anticipated trilogy being released exclusively by Interflix, and just before the second installment was to be announced, news broke that the male lead had a history of being vile toward women. Worse still, Riley had been cornered into an initial meeting with the actor and reps for him and Interflix, and he’d proven in the room that he was definitely the asshole the reports were making him out to be. Riley handled it like a champ, but had a panic attack at the office afterward, so of course Xavier was on the warpath, ready to march back into Interflix and punch the guy, and Sasha was in LA on another job, so it was down to Alexis to step in. She’s able to book a flight for that night, and she shoots Twyla a short but deeply apologetic text canceling their plans before getting to work. Recasting at this point would be a nightmare, but getting this guy out of the franchise is the absolute right thing to do, so she has Xavier send her a copy of the sequel’s script, and contact information for everyone involved in making the next movie.

  
  


It’s half an hour before she has to leave, and she’s drafting an email to the movie’s screenwriter when there’s a knock at the door. With her phone still in hand, she goes to answer it, and there’s Twyla, the missing dress in hand and a sympathetic smile on her face.

“Hi!” Alexis says, the email immediately, temporarily forgotten. “I am so sorry about tonight, you didn’t have to-”

“No, it’s okay, I totally understand,” Twyla says, handing her the dress. “It’s like you said, being a hands-on boss is a good thing.”

“Yes it is. Come in, I’ll get your dress.” 

She leaves Twyla in the living room to go get the dress from the guest room, where she’d intended to leave it so David or Patrick could give it back for her. Before she goes back out, she brings the dress to her nose, breathing in the scent of Twyla’s detergent, and a hint of the perfume she wears.

As she hands the dress over, Twyla offers to drive her to the airport, and Alexis would say yes to anything that gives them a little while longer to be together.

  
  


In the car, Alexis considers saying what she had hoped to say over dinner. She considers this right up until they’re hugging at the drop-off area, and then she decides it’s not right to confess something so big and precious, and then immediately hop on a plane. So she just hugs Twyla tight, for as long as she can get away with, before saying goodbye.

* * *

They had been _so close_. So close to taking a step toward _something_ , but after Alexis goes back to New York, she and Twyla fall back into the same non-routine as before. In some ways, it can’t be helped. The cleanup job for the Interflix movie takes a long time and a lot of energy to wrap up. It’s a major success, at least. Alexis makes friends with the screenwriter and manages to convince her to write the male lead out of the sequel, and to beef up the roles of the female lead and one of the side characters instead. She takes as much of the heat for the change as possible, and ARC gains a few more new clients than they lose from the whole ordeal. Alexis even gets a few calls about doctoring some other scripts.

By the time things start to die down, Twyla is getting ready to star as Natalie in the Schitt’s Creek community theater production of _Next to Normal_. It’s a much bigger role than the one she’d had in _Cabaret_ , and she’s putting a lot of extra work into preparing, so their conversations continue to be limited. Alexis is there, as promised, on opening night, and Twyla is _so good_ , she can barely wait for the curtains to close before she’s out of her seat and sneaking backstage to find her. By the time she does, Charlie has beaten her to it, and she has to watch as he gives her a beautiful bouquet of flowers. She knows their friendship is on the mend, and she has to believe that Twyla would have told her if something more was happening. Still, she suddenly feels very stupid for not bringing flowers, and she hangs out with David and Patrick for most of the afterparty.

After that, Twyla visits a couple of times, but they’re never alone. She visits with Stevie, and she visits for Sasha’s birthday, and like always, she’s barely there for a weekend. Alexis starts to tell herself she needs to be more grateful for the time she does have with Twyla. She’s her friend. She shouldn’t act like that’s somehow worth less because she wants more.

* * *

One day, it’s been three years since Alexis wore a blush-colored gown and a brave face to do the hardest thing she’s ever had to do. Three years, and then Ted is back, reaching out to reconnect before he has to leave again for his next adventure. He returns with a deeper tan, terrible puns about the fascinating creatures he’d studied, and a colleague-turned-fiancée. He asks if it’s okay for him to bring Nicole to lunch, and of course Alexis says yes. She may not have a ring, or even a partner at the moment, but she has moved on too. Still, something distant and dull tugs at her in her chest when she sees him, like the echo of an old injury flaring up on a rainy day. 

But it’s not raining, and they meet at a nice cafe with outdoor seating. The sun shines and the three of them smile and talk and laugh, and Alexis loves Nicole for Ted. She sees in her the kind of passion she herself is driven by. She sees a steadiness that she remembers also seeing in Heather. And there’s a familiar brightness, an easy warmth, but it’s not an ex of Ted’s it reminds her of. It reminds her of Twyla.

Nicole is also smart and tactful, and she gives Ted a subtle look when, as he’s wont to do, he asks the awkward question.

“So what about you? Are you seeing anyone?”

It would have come up sooner if she was, and Nicole knows that. Alexis looks down at her cappuccino and briefly considers being more honest with her great lost love and his new partner than she’s been with anyone about this. _You’re totally gonna laugh,_ she could say. _It turns out, I’m in love with Twyla. Yes, Twyla! Can you believe it? All those years of smoothies at the Cafe, and I didn’t realize it until I’d moved away. Does she feel the same? I don’t know. We’ve hooked up a few times, but the distance… well, you know better than anyone how hard that can be._

She could say all of this, but she doesn’t. She just smiles, shakes her head, and says work has been busy, which makes it hard to find the time to connect with someone. She gets the feeling that Nicole can tell she’s holding something back. She’s smart like that. She takes Alexis’s reference to her work and uses it to steer the conversation toward their jobs. It’s kind of her. Alexis likes her a lot.

Still, when she gets home, that distant ache is more pronounced. Her first instinct is to call Twyla, but she feels too vulnerable, worrying that she might say too much, might give her heart away over the phone. No, if she’s going to take that leap, she needs to do it in person. So she calls Rose Apothecary instead. Patrick picks up, and Alexis tries to make some small talk, but something in her voice must give her away. He asks if she needs to talk to David, lets her know that he’s with a customer at the moment, but that he’ll take over as soon as he can so that David can call her back. She thanks him, and she hopes he knows that she means for passing along her message, and for loving her brother the way he deserves.

* * *

Twyla’s next visit comes shortly after Ted’s. It’s not a coincidence. Ted and Nicole’s first stop after returning from the Galápagos Islands was to see Ted’s mother in Schitt’s Creek, and Alexis had received half a dozen “heads up” text messages about it. Over the days leading up to and following Ted’s visit to New York, Twyla texts her, but never specifically about Ted. She sends a selfie to ask her opinion on an outfit, gives her an update on her Sunrise Bay watch-through, asks her to remind her what that band was that Xavier had told her to listen to last time they all hung out. Alexis knows what she’s doing, and she appreciates it, but she also hates how much time it’s taking to recover from Ted’s visit.

It’s Friday evening about a week after, and Alexis is planning on working into the night. It seems her team has other plans, judging by the way they approach her desk together, not saying a word until she looks up from her monitor.

“You guys go have drinks without me,” she says. “I have some things I wanna finish up.”

“No,” Sasha says. “I mean yes, we’ll probably go get drinks, but _you_ are going home.”

“Look, I get it, it’s very sweet that you’re concerned, but-”

“Oh we’re well past concerned,” Xavier interrupts. “Mopey does not suit you. It needs to stop.”

“What he means is, you’ve worked late every night since… um. And, well, we just think you could use a break,” Riley says.

“Tomorrow is Saturday, I will take a break then,” Alexis says. “I mean, I have some emails to respond to, but after that-”

“ _Nnnoooo,_ ” Xavier interrupts, again. “No more late Fridays, and no more working through weekends unless there is a legitimate crisis. All of our clients have been shockingly well-behaved, there’s no reason for this. Now, the three of us organized a little pick-me-up for you, but you have to go home to…” he smirks “...enjoy it.”

Riley and Sasha both nudge him, but he just shrugs unapologetically.

“What did you do?” Alexis asks, too tired for their shenanigans which, she has to admit, might mean she’s too tired to keep working.

“Better go home and find out,” Sasha says with a mostly proud and slightly nervous looking grin.

  
  


The elevator is out in her building again, so Alexis trudges up the stairs, half expecting that this is all just a ruse to get her to go home, and there’s nothing there for her but the quiet of her apartment and the noise of her thoughts. If they did send something to her apartment, she can’t imagine it’s going to be something more helpful than burying herself in work. A muffin basket? A Peloton? A strip-o-gram?

She exits the stairwell onto her floor and finds that the surprise is the one thing she never would have dared to believe it might be. Sitting cross-legged, right atop the welcome mat she’d gifted to her, is Twyla.

When Twyla sees her, she hops to her feet, nearly knocking over the grocery bag next to her. Alexis has to try not to run to her, but she does walk faster, right into Twyla’s arms.

“Hi,” she breathes. “What are you…” She pulls back. “Oh my god, did Xavier, Sasha, and Riley _make_ you fly out to see me?”

“They didn’t have to make me,” Twyla says, her smile like a warm mug of tea on a cold morning. “I’d been thinking of asking, but I wasn’t sure if you wanted space after… well, anyway, then your friends called and insisted on helping me plan a trip.”

“How… proactive of them,” Alexis says with a forced smile. “Bordering on… meddling.”

“Alexis, I promise, I want to be here. Look.” She reaches into the tote bag hanging from her shoulder and pulls out a Sunrise Bay DVD set. “I could use your live commentary. Things are getting weird.”

Alexis takes the box set, her smile relaxing into something more natural.

“Weird on this show? You’re going to have to be a little more specific.”

They laugh, and it feels comfortable, more so than anything has made Alexis feel in much longer than the week since she saw Ted.

“So I also brought a frozen artichoke pizza, which might be getting a little soggy now,” Twyla says sheepishly.

“Oh, right, sorry,” Alexis says, hastily unlocking her apartment door so they can go inside.

  
  


_This is good,_ Alexis thinks. It’s just a little girls’ night. The two of them sitting at opposite ends of the couch, pizza and wine to keep their hands busy, and her mother on the television which - no offense to her because she really is the best thing about this bizarre soap opera - doesn’t really inspire a romantic mood. And once they’ve had their fun, Twyla will go back to her hotel. As long as Alexis doesn’t allow herself to swoon over the little bouquet of pink lilies that were also in the grocery bag, or the way Twyla narrowly misses snorting wine when the unpredictable volume of Moira’s voice suddenly crescendos on the TV, everything is fine. They’re just two friends with hearts on the mend, indulging in some self-care.

And then, just as Vivien Blake is on the backhand of one of her infamous slaps, the TV goes dark, along with the rest of the apartment.

“Ughhh!” Alexis groans, setting her glass on the coffee table and feeling around for her phone to use as a flashlight. “You know, this building looks nice, but there’s always something breaking. I knew I should have picked up some candles…”

“Oh, I just remembered!” Twyla says, getting up. “David and Patrick gave me some things from the store for you, I think there was a candle.”

Alexis finds that she does have one candle, a big, lavender scented one in a glass jar that Stevie had given her as part of a housewarming gift basket. Twyla brings her the Rose Apothecary candle to light as well. It feels expensive, white ceramic and cube-shaped. One of the corners feels like it’s sticking out more than the rest, and Alexis tries to examine it in the limited light.

“It’s a massage candle,” Twyla explains. “The wax melts into massage oil, and the little spout os so you can pour right onto your skin.”

“Sounds luxurious,” Alexis says, surprised that David would send something so nice from the store. Maybe it was Patrick’s doing. Or maybe they were both just feeling that sorry for her.

“Yeah, they’re really nice,” Twyla says, and judging by the way she almost stops short of finishing that sentence, Alexis assumes this is something she’d enjoyed with Charlie.

“Well, as nice as it is, it’s kind of difficult to give yourself a massage,” Alexis says, reaching her hand that isn’t holding the candle back as far as she can to press into her shoulder.

Twyla shrugs. “I could give you a massage.”

“Oh, no, Twy, I didn’t mean-”

“No I know, but I could. I took a basic massage techniques class once, from a guy who used to come to yoga. It’s not that hard.” She shrugs again. “It seems like you could use it.”

Alexis’s mind flits frantically between “that does genuinely sound nice” and “this is asking for trouble” for several seconds before she finally makes a decision.

“Okay, yeah. That sounds nice.”

  
  


Alexis changes into a pair of pajama shorts in the bathroom, and heads into the bedroom with a towel held in front of her. Twyla looks away politely while Alexis places the towel on the bed, and then lays on her front on the towel, even though it’s nothing she hasn’t seen before.

They keep the lavender candle burning on the nightstand, and Twyla extinguishes the massage candle before kneeling on the bed and tipping some of the oil out onto Alexis’s back. Alexis had expected it to be hotter, but it’s pleasantly warm, and Twyla starts by smoothing her hands across her back gently, more evenly distributing the oil. The scent of vanilla and sandalwood is soothing, as is the low light of the single candle, but Alexis is hesitant to sink fully into the moment. The room is too quiet, but putting on music seems too romantic. So Alexis opts to chat.

“So. What have you been up to?” she asks, the small talk cutting awkwardly into the sensuous atmosphere as she hoped it would.

“Oh you know, the usual,” Twyla says as she spends some time kneading Alexis’s shoulders. “Work, the Jazzagals. It’s all going well though. Oh!” Twyla’s fingers squeeze her a little in excitement. “I’m going to be officiating a wedding!”

“What?!”

“Yeah, for a couple of friends. I got ordained online and everything.”

“Oh my god! Who’s getting married?”

“Did you ever meet Derek? He helped Stevie and Patrick out with the _Cabaret_ choreography.”

“Oh my god _yes_ , he was at some of the shows. Super cute, no wonder he’s been snatched up. I didn’t know you were friends.”

Twyla’s hands on her falter for a second. “It’s… kind of an embarrassing story.”

“Well, no pressure, but apparently I was moping so much my employees had to call in reinforcements, then my power went out while I had company over, and I’m currently topless, so I’d say this is a safe space.”

After a pause, Twyla says, “I… may have asked him out.”

Alexis gasps, genuinely impressed. “Good for you!”

“No, it was a disaster. It wasn’t long after Charlie, and Derek been coming into the Cafe more frequently for takeout, so after a few times I finally mustered up the courage to ask. And that’s how I learned that he had a fiancé.”

“Well, if I’ve learned anything from all my years of dating, it’s that you’ll never know until you ask.”

“I guess you’re right. Anyway, he was very sweet about it, and then the next time he picked up an order, Ken was with him and-”

“Wait,” Alexis interrupts, looking over her shoulder at her. “Did you say Ken? Is he, like, a sexy little stringbean with glasses and a killer smile?”

“Yeah, pretty much. You know him?”

Alexis gapes in surprised delight, patting her pillow excitedly. “David sent Patrick on a date with him once! And he didn’t set any ground rules, so I had to be the one to pick up the pieces when he realized he made a mistake! Do they know?”

“They have to. Rose Apothecary is one of the vendors for the wedding.”

“Oh my _god,_ I can’t believe David didn’t tell me! After everything I did for him that night.”

She sags into her pillow with a little laugh. It feels good to laugh. It feels even better when Twyla starts kneading in a circular motion on one side of her spine down at the small of her back. She’s not as on-guard now, and a small, breathy moan escapes her.

“Sorry,” she says quickly. “That felt good.”

“It’s supposed to,” Twyla says, and Alexis can hear the smile in her voice as she repeats the motion on her other side.

She tries not to make any other embarrassing sounds, but she gives in a little more to Twyla’s touch, letting her eyes drift closed. After a while, Twyla smooths her hands back up toward Alexis’s shoulders. She pauses there, and just as Alexis is going to ask if she wants to stop, she feels Twyla’s hair tickle her back, followed by a gentle press of lips to one of her shoulder blades. Alexis’s breath catches, and then every point of contact they had been sharing is gone.

“I’m sorry,” Twyla says. “It just… you smelled so nice, and I…”

She trails off, and there’s too much that Alexis can’t read without looking at her, so she turns over and sits up. She could take the towel with her to cover herself, but she chooses to leave it so she doesn’t get massage oil all over her bedspread. It’s nothing Twyla hasn’t seen before anyway.

Twyla is kneeling at the end of the bed, looking at her hands. Alexis nudges her with her foot so she looks up.

“Hey. It’s okay,” Alexis says, shrugging a shoulder. “It does smell nice, so…”

Alexis tips her head to one side, hoping she looks inviting. She must be successful, judging by the way Twyla’s eyes widen. She still doesn’t move for a long moment, so Alexis doesn’t look away, trying to convey with everything but words that she wants whatever Twyla wants to happen next. Slowly, Twyla leans forward, turning her face into Alexis’s neck. Alexis feels her breath there, and then her eyelids flutter shut as Twyla kisses her shoulder, then her neck, with a gentleness that makes her heart ache. Alexis turns her head toward Twyla until she takes the hint and lifts her head so that Alexis can kiss her lips with that same gentleness. She waits for Twyla to respond, which she does, kissing her again, more soundly. It builds and builds from there until they’re both breathing hard and pulling each other close. Alexis drops her hands to pull Twyla’s top off, but she only gets as far as rucking it up a bit before Twyla is pushing her to lie back again, consuming her in another kiss.

With her hands still slippery and warm from the massage oil, Twyla slides her hands down Alexis’s body, and if Alexis had thought her touch had felt good on her back, _this_ was heaven. She grips the pillow behind her head as Twyla teases her nipples, drawing circles over them with her thumbs. She continues her path downward, her lips follow the trail of her hands, peppering kisses down her stomach. When she reaches the waistband of Alexis’s shorts, she pauses and looks up.

“ _Yes_ Twy,” Alexis says, answering the unspoken question. “Please, yes.”

There’s a distant voice in her mind telling her this might be a bad idea, but she doesn’t care. All she wants in this moment is Twyla, and Twyla wants her too. She’ll deal with the consequences in the morning.

  
  


Alexis wakes with a little groan, her body stiff the way it is if she sleeps a whole night in one position. When she realizes that he cheek his pressed against Twyla’s chest, she understands why she never moved.

The sex with Twyla the night before had been cathartic. Her body had shivered at the slightest touch for a long time after they’d finished, and Alexis had rolled into Twyla’s side and clung to her to anchor herself. She vaguely remembers being coaxed up to go to the bathroom, coming back to the covers pulled down, climbing under them and slotting herself right back against Twyla. She would be embarrassed by her clinginess, but Twyla hadn’t rolled away either, and she seems to have fallen asleep with her fingers still combed through Alexis’s hair. Alexis nuzzles at Twyla’s collarbone and inhales deeply, smelling the remnants of vanilla and sandalwood. 

Something broke open last night, something she has been trying to keep closed to no avail, like an overpacked suitcase. She can no longer remember why she’d spent all that time trying to forget how close she’d come to telling Twyla how she felt. There was nothing left that seemed worth holding back for. She couldn’t blame Charlie. Patrick had casually mentioned that he had a new girlfriend, and on the rare occasion that Twyla mentioned him, it was in the context of a casual, friendly encounter. Maybe this was partially about Ted. Maybe seeing him had provided some closure she hadn’t realized she needed. She’d had to lose Ted to understand how precious his love was, and to accept and reciprocate it. Maybe she had to survive losing that love to be strong enough to love someone as precious to her as Twyla.

She peeks up to try to see what time it is, but the digital clock on her nightstand is flashing, in need of resetting. At least the power is back on.

Twyla stirs, and Alexis closes her eyes. She doesn’t want this to end. Not so soon. Not like every time. But as Twyla wakes, it seems nothing has changed. After a moment, she carefully pulls away from Alexis and climbs out of bed. When Alexis opens her eyes again, Twyla is getting dressed. Something twists in Alexis’s stomach, and she knows it’s time to stop holding back. She has to believe that their friendship will endure, even if Twyla doesn’t want everything she does.

“Hey,” she says, sitting up and clutching the bedsheet to her chest to cover herself, like women do in the movies.

“Hey,” Twyla says, spinning to look at her as she fastens her bra. “Sorry, I didn’t wanna wake you.”

“No, it’s okay. Are you, um… when is your flight?”

“This afternoon,” she says apologetically. “It was either that or nothing until Monday evening, so…”

“Of course,” Alexis says. She watches in silence as Twyla pulls on her jeans and looks around for her top, on the verge of losing her nerve. When Twyla finds the blouse, Alexis decides it’s now or never.

“Wait, Twy, um… I need to say something. You can keep getting ready if you need to, but… I need to say this.”

Twyla stops, just holding her shirt. “Sure, okay.”

Alexis takes a deep breath, and as she lets it out, she knows she doing the right thing.

“I love you, Twy.”

Twyla blinks at her, then smiles genially. “I love you too, Alexis.”

“But I’m…” Alexis stops and smiles to herself. Deja vu. “I’m _in love_ with you.”

Twyla looks reasonably stunned. Alexis gives her a moment, but when she doesn’t say anything, she pushes forward.

“You’ve been my friend since before I really deserved a friend like you. And… I’ve loved you for a while, but not nearly as long as you’ve deserved. These visits make me so happy, but, if you were also… if you felt the same, I’d just… I’d like more than a weekend every couple of months to try and make up for all the time I wasn’t everything I want to be for you now. So stay, please. If you want. Stay.”

“I…” Twyla says, eventually, glancing toward the door before shaking her head and looking back at Alexis. “Alexis…”

“We can talk this out more,” Alexis suggests hastily. “Please, just… don’t go? I’ll cover the cost to switch your ticket.”

“Money isn’t an issue…”

“I know, I know it isn’t. It’s just a gesture. I just… I only ever get a day with you. Maybe two. You own your business, you have a sweet little staff now, couldn’t they manage just a little longer without you?”

Twyla looks down, fussing with the collar of her top.

“Yeah, they could,” she says softly.

“Then wh-,” Alexis starts, but then she stops herself. She’s not sure she’s ready for the answer that might follow. But Twyla just shakes her head, mustering up a smile before she looks back up at Alexis.

“It’s… a gesture,” she says.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean… that I respect that you’ve built yourself a whole new life out here. And I love that I can be a part of it for a couple of days every now and then. But it’s easier for me if I stick to that set amount of time. You always seem so happy to see me, and I didn’t want to lose that by asking for too much.”

For a moment, Alexis can’t breathe. It never really occurred to her that maybe Twyla was holding back just as much as her. She wants to correct this, to reassure her, every confession she’s ever rehearsed in her mind rushing to be the one finally spoken, but in the end, all she can say is-

“Stay?”

And after all this time knowing each other, Twyla understands. But after all this time of both of them keeping their distance, she has to ask.

“For how long?”

While “forever” would be an honest answer, that’s maybe a bit much for this already huge moment that’s been years in the making. So she settles on, “As long as you can.”

Twyla sits back on the bed, within reach, but Alexis waits. When Twyla smiles, it’s hopeful.

“And if I wanted to stay longer?”

In the late morning light, filtered through the curtains into the rosy glow she’d always wished she could take the time to soak in with the kindest, loveliest woman she’s ever known, Alexis’s face aches from smiling so widely.

“Even better.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading. 💖


End file.
